


The Lascivious Dead

by phillydelatartar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:11:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phillydelatartar/pseuds/phillydelatartar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl wakes up in a cold sweat but he is hot for something he can't quite put his finger in. Will the other survivors step up to help him amid the chaos of the zombie apocalypse? I mean, what plot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lascivious Dead

It was a balmy day in Georgia, a nice day to take a swim in the lake. Unfortunately for Shane, he didn’t have that luxury. He sat on the porch of the farm house, wishing he hadn’t finished the whisky so quickly. Lori, that bitch, had given him a dirty look when he found it in Hershel’s cabinet, way in the back. Rick would never steal, her look said. That bitch.  
Just then Daryl came out of the woods towards the house.  
“Caught a jack rabbit,” he said. “They’re all over the place out there. Gettin’ their fuck on.”   
“Spring time,” said Shane.   
“I guess so.” Daryl unshouldered his crossbow and dropped the game on the porch. “I wouldn’t mind getting some pussy myself.”  
“Amen to that,” said Shane. Daryl dropped next to him on the porch, eying the empty bottle. “The fuck’s that?”  
“Finder’s keepers.”  
“Heh, old man Hershel. That all you got? I found some under the bathroom sink.” He left for a moment and came back and cracked a fresh bottle of JD.   
“Let’s get fucked up and do some fucked up shit.”  
It had been a long time since Daryl had let loose, letting his tough-guy persona slide. Whisky is his weakness, and he easily became well-lubricated. The whisky tasted smokey and luxurious after so many months of nothing but the little water they could find. He was good and drunk—his body warm and mind pleasantly fuzzy. It seemed that Shane was even more so—go figure that a goodie-goodie sheriff pretty boy can’t hold his liquor.  
“Gimme smmore...” Shane slurred and grabbed for the bottle again. His large caramel hand covered Daryl’s own as he reached for the bottle’s neck. Daryl watched through slitted eyes as Shane took a drag straight from the bottle. He was disturbed to find that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from a small trickle of whisky which dribbled over Shane’s lips and down to his prominent Adam’s apple.  
“Don’t be a greedy summbitch, gimme that!” He snatched the bottle back. He was reminded of the time he walked in on Merle masturbating with the neighbor boy, little Jack Hoffman. Merle beat the crap out of him until he promised not to tell. He needed a distraction from his train of thought.  
“How long has it been since you got some poon Shane?”  
“Long enough,” ejaculates Shane rather curtly. His eyes glazed over. “There’s been just a lot of... dead.. lately. Not a lot of life, if you know what I mean.” Shane knocks back another. The liquor’s warm and it burns. His eyes are stinging as he licks his lips. Despite the climate, they’re soft. Voluptuous even. Daryl cuts in.  
“So you were a cop, right?” He stares into his glazed-over eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he’d been crying. Must be the whisky. That shit’ll bring a grown man to his knees.   
And suddenly Daryl is on his knees, his rough hands on Shane’s thighs, filthy nails digging into Shane’s skin.  
“Fuck you doin’ man?” Shane hollers, but his growing lump gives off a different, more inviting tone.  
Both men are breathing hard as Daryl tugs on the zipper of Shane’s trousers. Shane looks bewildered but finds himself frozen as Daryl stuffs his ample cock greedily into his hot wet mouth. Daryl wastes no time, moving his mouth up and down on Shane’s cock creating a wet shiny tower of flesh.  
“Oh fuck Daryl, I...”  
“Geeks!!” Shouts Daryl, jerking his head away from Shane’s crotch.   
“Get the fuckin’ shot guns.”

Daryl awakens from the vivid dream sweaty and unfocused. He looks around the darkened room, becoming increasingly aware of the wet spot on his crotch.   
He hears gunfire as he pulls his pants on and gathers his weapons.  
“What the fuck man? We got walkers!” It’s Shane. He is shirtless and only in his underwear, but his gun is at the ready.  
Daryl gets out of bed and follows him out of the room, his heart beating hard from that surreal dream and the very real danger waiting outside. His crossbow is slung over his shoulder and he holstered his pistol in the shorts he threw on over his sticky crotch. As he opened the door of the farm house he could see approaching them a herd of about 15, trickling out of the woods like some fucking cheesy horror movie made real—bits of flesh and scraps of clothes dangling off their rotting bones, moaning like pained bitches in heat. At only 15, they should be easy to overtake. If they used guns. But that was a dangerous gamble. “Don’t wanna bring any more geeks down on us—better use your hands, boys.” He launched himself off the porch step and brought an arrow to the bow. He watched with satisfaction as his first shot erupted in a shower of brains and blood and two walkers crashed to the grass.   
Shane pushed by him with a grunt, brandishing a hatchet. Daryl noticed with satisfaction that Lori, the scrawny bitch who everyone seemed so taken with, had remained inside, and silent for once. Made it much easier to get the job done when she wasn’t underfoot. He bludgeoned another walker and shot another straight through the mouth, but when he turned around there was that other crazy bitch toting a gun.   
“Fuckers!!” she yelled and unloaded a full clip into the oncoming herd.  
“Andrea, no!!” It was Rick. He had just sunk his axe into a big male walker. His warning came too late.   
“Dammit! Now we’re gonna get more,” Daryl yelled. The group continued to fight for a few more seconds until it started to seem futile. More walkers came out of the woods at an unusual pace—these walkers were hungry and they were moving fast. Back in the house, the men barricaded the door. “Gotdammit Andrea, you’re gonna get us all killed!” Shane was yelling in her face. Daryl agreed and lunged at her in his anger.   
“You fuckin’ whore!! I’ll—” But Rick grabbed him by his shoulders while T-Dog’s arm slung across his chest.  
“Easy, man,” panted T-Dog. “We gotta figure this shit out right here.” But Andrea took advantage of this situation.  
“Fuck you, you redneck. I don’t even wanna be here,” and she spat in Daryl’s face. Daryl barely had time to process this as Shane’s right hand connected with Andrea’s face with a loud slap.  
“Calm the fuck down everybody.” Shane took control of the situation giving each man a task to fight off the oncoming hord. “Daryl, you come with me to the roof. You’re the best range shooter.” Soon Daryl found himself silently laying on his belly next to Shane’s mostly naked figure. He looked through the binoculars, scoping out the geeks.  
“Thanks for uh, standing up for me there,” Daryl grunted. “That woman was outta line. Don’t know why she had that gun. Coulda messed this up for allovus.” The walkers had calmed down quite a bit. There were a lot of them, but they seemed to have lost focus. It had become a waiting game.  
Suddenly the dream came back to Daryl, and he squirmed uncomfortably as his cock began to stir with the beginnings of an erection. He shot a glance at Shane who was fully tensed up as he stared down the shaft of the shotgun. The moonlight glistened upon his moist back and arms. Soft shadows fell where his muscle definition presented itself from his tensed pose.  
Daryl began breathing heavily as his eyes slowly moved down the length of Shane’s body. He could make out the cherubic shape of Shane’s ass through the thin underwear.  
“So what’re we gonna do now, man?” Daryl’s attention shot back up to Shane’s large brown eyes, which were now looking directly at him.   
“How man bullets you got in there sheriff?” He drawled, letting his eyes wander down the length of Shane’s boxer-brief clad frame with a sarcastic smirk. “I only got four arrows here myself. so I reckon we’re gonna need to take down as many as we can with that rifle of yours. Then we can try to round the rest of ‘em up. Then we can take down the rest of ‘em with the ammo locked up in the RV.”  
“Maybe we can lower them into that well. It’s useless as a man-hooker or a woman with a gun anyhow,” Shane said with a cheeky grin. “Maybe we can use Andrea as bait,” he finished with a sly look at Daryl.   
Daryl heard himself let out a hollow laugh as he thought back to Andrea’s angry face. He’d give her something else to spit on when all this was over.   
“Nah, man. I can think of a better way she can make it up to me once we’re done saving everyone’s asses,” responds Daryl.   
Shane’s eyes seemed to light up at these words.   
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. But then how’re we gonna lure the rest of those walkers into the well? We can probably take down another 20 or so with what we’ve got here, but we need flesh to lure ‘em, and we can’t kill anybody!”   
Shane was working himself up into a manly rage when suddenly Daryl was struck by an idea.   
“What about all that blood from Carl’s surgery? I don’t think Hershel destroyed those soiled sheets yet. It’ll smell like a banquet to those walkers.”  
“Sure, but there ain’t much flesh on those sheets. They’ll need something to chew on, Daryl.”  
“Well I know, but I do have one thing that’ll tempt ‘em. Never thought it would come to this. But what if I sweeten the pot with my brother’s hand?”  
“That plan has more holes in it than a gay bed bug’s abdomen,” butts in Rick, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “What makes you think a week-old hand will attract those walkers more than our warm, soft skin and our blood-filled, hot and throbbing pants.” Rick reddens, “I mean, veins...” He collects himself. “There’s too many of ‘em. We gotta abandon the farm. Head back to the highway.”   
Shane is hysterical. “You lost your mind? This is the ideal place to set up camp. We have shelter, food...”  
“The man has no balls,” remarks Daryl.  
“No kidding,” echoes Shane.  
“On the contrary, gentlemen...” Rick then unexpectedly drops trow, revealing his garden hose in all its glory, making a light smacking noise as it falls against his swollen sperm factories.   
The sheriff had balls like a bull.  
The men were stunned. Never had they seen such massive testicles with such a prawn-sized wonder attached, nay peeking out from the top. Shane got a flash from a different time. The two men were showering in the sheriff’s department showers. Shane was curious about a flopping noise coming from Rick’s corner of the shower, but he didn’t dare look. At the present, he realized that his assumptions about Rick’s genitalia were wrong. Rick caught the shock in their faces. “Well, I, uh, it’s a grower, not a shower,” he stammered.  
“Oh, yeah?” chuckled Daryl. “Prove it.”  
Rick began furiously masturbating at that time.  
Daryl became visibly excited by the scene before him. Rick was, in fact, a grower. As he ravenously beat his micro-member it began to swell. Slowly but surely his unimpressive cashew-nut penis began to engorge as his hot blood flowed into the stimulated area. The growth was incredible. His shrimp cocktail had become a mother-fucking bratwurst. Daryl felt his pants grow tighter. He wasn’t one to brag about his cock, but the ladies certainly never complained. And neither had Merl.  
I’m getting a little dry here guys. We got any lube?”  
“Nope,” says Andrea, who, just like Rick had done earlier, suddenly appeared. She’d heard the commotion, and, pistol at the ready, had been prepared to blast away any walkers. The situation, however, was very different from what she had imagined.  
“Bitch alert,” thought Daryl. And he rolled his eyes.  
“What’s your problem, man?” says Andrea confrontationally.  
“You and that gun,” spat Daryl. “You’re gonna get us all killed.”  
“What, THIS gun??” Andrea and Daryl were face-to-face. Her gun inches from his nose. Their chests both heaving with angry passion.   
Suddenly Rick jumped between them. His meat hammer forming a barrier. “Hey, calm down. We have to stick together.” He slowly took the gun from Andrea’s hand. “Daryl, this gun could be your worst enemy, or your best friend.”  
Andrea suddenly smiled. “Thank you, Rick,” she said. With her cold eyes in narrow slits, she stared at Daryl and grabbed his cock with a strong grip. “You think a woman doesn’t know how to handle a gun?” she whispered dangerously. Daryl refused to say anything, but his throbbing pork sword answered for him. It swelled in unsure anticipation. Andrea distracted Daryl by sensuously brushing her lips against his when Shane and Rick each grabbed him by an arm and turned him around.  
“Wait, wait!!” Daryl yelled. But it was too late. Andrea ripped his pants down and rammed the gun into his unsuspecting anus.  
“Whaaaaa!” Daryl wailed. Andrea began rigorously pumping the shaft into Daryl’s fun-hole. Daryl struggled at first, but then surrendered to the pleasure.  
“aaaaaaah.”   
Rick loosened his grip when he realized Daryl wasn’t fighting back anymore. Rick thought this could be a good experience for Daryl, which would be especially important should they wish to repeat. So, realizing Daryl, although thoroughly stimulated, as evidenced by his ruddy pork sword, Rick is concerned he might be in pain? So, being the nice guy he is, he pulls a packet of lube out of his wallet, which he conveniently carries around because Lori is a dry bitch. Gently tugging on Andrea’s forearm, he tenderly pulls the gun out of Daryl’s gaping asshole. It makes a dry squeeze as it is released from the desperate constraints of his crackled sphincter. Shane realizes it’s no longer necessary to restrain Daryl but finds the burning heat of Daryl’s adrenaline-filled muscles too titillating to release his grime-ridden skin.  
Andrea, hot with rage, at first struggles with Rick’s interference. But, seeing the glimmer of dangerous dominance in Rick’s eyes, helplessly succumbs to his complete control. Which she finds incredibly hot. Her attention is gently drawn from Daryl’s gaping asshole to Rick’s alpha male gaze. She feels the rage leaving her body as she is overcome by swelling heat from the depths of her uterus. Lost in Rick’s control, she watches him squeeze the lubricant onto the waste-speckled shaft of the pistol.   
Shane observed Rick with disgust. What a pussy, he thought. Daryl did not deserve such lubricated tenderness. With an angry grunt he stuffed his ample cock into Daryl’s panting mouth. His thrusts muted the soft moans of pleasure that Daryl had begun to emit.  
Daryl was no stranger to this kind of oral violation. Again his thoughts drifted back to the trailer park of his childhood. His momma was blowing the neighbor, whose house reeked so much of chemicals that sometimes Daryl had to shut all the windows and doors of the trailer even in the dead of summer because it made his eyes burn and his chest hurt. But ole Jack Sr. wasn’t cooking today. He was getting his cock slobbered on by Daryl’s momma.  
Daryl was surprised to have the trailer to himself. He had noticed a glossy flesh colored piece of paper peeking out from under the mattress on the floor. It was a nudie mag! Daryl ripped it out from under the mattress and his eyes greedily mowed over the pages. But something was off. The slutty women were there parting their pussies with shiny red finger nails, but their faces had been scribbled out with a black sharpie. In all the margins Daryl recognized Merl’s spastic handwriting: “Die butt pirates” and “Fags go on to HELL” were just some of the words he could make out.  
Just then the screen door creaked open “Whut the hell?” Merl’s face was red with shame and anger. “Boy Ima kill you!”  
Daryl tried to make a break for it out of the emergency hatch but Merl was too quick for him today. Merl pinned him to the bed and gave him a hard slap with his right hand while his left hand clutched Daryl’s throat. Merl’s knee parted Daryls legs with unnecessary pressure.  
“I didn’t-I-I’m sorry-“ Daryl stammered.  
“You some kinda fag boy? Are ya? ARE YA?” Merl was screaming into Daryl’s face “Now you listen here boy; military ain’t take no fags. You wanna get into the army like daddy you can’t be no fag!”  
Daryl was too shocked and scared to say anything. He stared up at Merl with wide eyes.  
“Now we’ll see if yous a fag…” Merl began unbuttoning Daryl’s fly and stroking his soft man meat “yeah we’ll see…but if you so much as get half a stiffy Ima beat your ass from here to Shreveport!”  
It happened so quickly. Merl gobbled Daryls cock into his mouth like it was the last drumstick on Thanksgiving. Daryl immediately began to spasm as his eyes rolled back in the fuzzy euphoric haze of an orgasm, Just as instantly though, he knew he made a terrible mistake.  
Merl sat up wiping his mouth in disgust. “’At’s what I thought.” He sat coldly. And he then began to give Daryl one of the worst thrashings of their relationship.  
Even though Shane’s forceful thrusts reminded Daryl of Merl’s brutality, it was kind of comforting, a little taste of home. He began swallowing Shane’s cock with vigor anew.  
Rick watched this interaction with mild interest. Then he notice Andrea staring at him both hands cupping just one of his massive testicles. He stared her in the eyes then looked slowly down to his throbbing chorizo stick. She followed his eyeline and immediately shoved his wood into her mouth until his untamed pubes touched her lips.  
But movement suddenly distracted Rick. There was a figure limping into the room. It growled hungrily at the sight of Rick’s watermelon sized ball bag. The exposed ball that Andrea wasn’t able to accommodate was a like a filet mignon to this walker.   
But no one at this fun-hole party panicked because this walker had been tampered with. Its toes had been ripped off and its arm bones stuck out awkwardly from its filthy yet muscular chest. Its mouth bled black where every last one of its teeth had been ripped out. Rick barely had time to ponder what kind of sick experiment the CDC was doing with it when it fell onto its knees and began gumming the unattended ball.   
Rick let out a moan as this monster gnawed on his scrotum. Such a dangerous game and yet it was ecstasy.   
BANG! A shot rang out and the walker fell to the ground.  
There stood Glen in the doorway, pistol in hand. He had shot the sexy walker dead.   
“You almost shot my nuts off man!” Rick shouted.  
But Glen was angry. His fully erect cock was of an impressive length; however the width was not much thicker than an uncooked penne noodle and compared to these guys in front of him he felt as inadequate as a castrated jack rabbit. Angry red blotches rose in his cheeks and just as he opened his mouth to tell them off-there was a piercing scream from the other side of the house.  
At Lori’s voice Rick wrestled his nut sack out of Andrea’s hands and mouth. Shane uncorked Daryl’s throat and stuffed his cock into his pants. Both men ran to Lori but were not prepared for the scene in front of them. Lori squatted on the ground outside of the house. Her belly had swollen with what was clearly some kind of man-spawn.  
“Oh my god Lori you are having our baby! Right now!” Rick has tears in his eyes.  
“Are you kidding me? That’s obviously my baby I’ve been fuckin her longer!” Shane growled.  
“No! My giant balls obviously produce giant sperm which produce giant babies!” Rick spat.  
“Man that’s the most retarded ass shit I ever heard!” Yelled Shane.  
“Well I’m a cop not a doctor!” Shouted Rick and the two men began to go at it.  
Shane instantly went for Rick’s head, catching him around the neck with one bulgy, veiny bicep. He knew how to execute a flawless head-lock back from high school where he was the captain of the all-male wresting team-they’d gone national you know. Rick flailed uselessly against Shane’s brawny beef-cake arms. He was starting to have trouble drawing breath and he felt a rivulet of saliva escape his mouth and dribble down Shane’s arm.   
He knew his only chance would be to hit Shane where it hurt, and luckily he could just feel the head of Shane’s half-mast cock brushing against his buttocks. He jerked his heel back towards the source of the pulsing heat near his rear and connected.  
Shane doubled over in pain and Rick swiftly delivered a sharp elbow to his nose. Not one to let an advantage pass him by, Rick knocked Shane to his knees and delivered a slap to Shane’s face-first with the palm of his hand then with the force of his massive testicles.  
“Are you doubting the power of my baby-makers now, bitch?” Rick cried triumphantly.  
Shane was seeing red; a junk punch was a low blow, even for Rick. Well he wasn’t afraid to return the favor. He reached out to crush Rick’s balls in his hand but was stunned to find that it was physically impossible. He settled on compressing one monstrous testicle in his hand while clamping down with all his might and fitting the other in his open mouth. Rick yowled like an alley cat and fell to the ground beside Shane.  
The two men began rolling and writhing around on the floor in a pile of sweaty man flesh and increasingly loud grunts. It almost made Shane long for his old wrestling unitard.  
As the boys continued their vigorous and noisy squabble, Lori began to feel the very innards of her belly contracting painfully. The sound of flesh pounding flesh and manly groans coming from the two wrestling men on the floor drowned out the shrieks of pain.  
With a loud squelching noise something ripped through the skin just under Lori’s belly button. A tiny fist with small corn kernel-like finger nails was scratching around her stomach. Both men became silent with awe to watch this unusual birth unfold.   
The disembodied hand was soon joined by its twin and the pair ripped and tore Lori’s flesh until there was a gaping maw where Lori’s intestines should be.  
“Holy fuckin shit.” Whispered Shane.  
“I know…that fucking whore…” Replied Rick.  
Lori passed out or maybe died (who cares) as the walker baby clawed the rest of its body out of her wasted rail thin abdomen.   
“Well I guess you shouldn’t fuck walkers.”


End file.
